The Shadows
by kellyLEIGH
Summary: She always preferred living in the shadows. Unseen. Invisible. A particular blonde bad-boy decided otherwise.
1. Death is a terrible thing

The shadows. That's exactly where she liked to stay. Away from people, away from the war, away from everything. No, she wasn't invisible, although she would like to be. She was just more….cautious.

The war terrified her. She hated the idea of death.

People in general terrified her.

That's why she stayed in the shadows.

She didn't dislike people. Oh no, not at all. Actually, there were a few that she quite liked. Dumbledore was a great man. Very wise. But he was dead. She really enjoyed Lupin as well. But he was dead. She loved her parents, very much. They raised her until she was 12, with nothing but love and care. But they were dead.

Then there was Clara. Clara was beautiful. One of the smartest witches to ever grace the halls to Hogwarts. Clara was her best friend, for many years. But she was dead.

Death is an altering thing. It changes their life, it changes the families lives, it changes teachers, it changes students, and it changes the world of everyone involved. Death was not something to be toyed with.

No. No one realized that. Everyone in the school was ready to do stupid things, such as that stupid Tournament, and risk death. People would threaten the lives of others without realizing the consequences.

No. No one quite understood death like she did.

There was a lot of death last year. What was supposed to be her seventh year of Hogwarts. The one step before she could leave and start fresh. The war happened. Harry Potter killed Voldemort. He killed. He caused death.

He did it to stop any more death. But does that make it ok?

In a few short days, everyone would be back. People would be joyous, people would be sad, people would be normal. But not her. She never was quite normal, was she?

Six years of being here. You would think she would have the hang of it by now. But no. She would never get used to it.

She didn't come back last year. She knew what it would be like. She hid. For a long time. You could call her a coward. But she saw it as being smart. Why get in the middle of a fight that wasn't yours?

Voldemort had not killed her parents or Clara. No, he had nothing to do with those.

So, no. She didn't come back. But now she had to. She had to finish school and move on with her life.

She had no other options.

She just had to get through one more year in the shadows.


	2. Welcome to Hogwarts

Platform 9 ¾. Seeing the train sign brought a feeling of dread to her stomach. No, she did not want to be coming back. But then again, yes she did.

Friends were not exactly her strong point. Sure, she spoke to a few people over her years. Luna was a sweet girl. Even the famous Hermione Granger had spoken to her once. She would not consider anyone her friend. Besides Clara. But Hogwarts took care of that for her.

Once inside the train, she retreated to the back compartment like she always did. No one ever bothered her here. Actually, no one ever bothered her anywhere. She was a shadow on the wall.

She moved her luggage to the compartment above her head and settled down into the seat underneath. Pulling her wand out from behind her ear, she placed it in the seat next to her.

She disliked magic. No, she was not terrible at it. Actually, she managed to prefect many spells on her first try. She was good at it. But she didn't want to be. Magic killed so many. It made murder so much easier to do. One would not have to plan it out, pick a weapon, manage the courage to go through with it, etc. A few words and a point of the wand and you could make a life disappear.

Pulling out the newspaper she had grabbed walking into the train, she scanned the titles. Everything was about "The Boy Who Lived" or Voldemort. It was old news. Voldemort was defeated. But at what cost? Half of the school had died along with him. Shaking off the feeling, she tossed the newspaper to the side as soon as the compartment door opened.

"Oh! I didn't know this was taken." A pale, silver-hared boy stood in the doorway, his wand clutched to his side.

She chose to say nothing, just looked at him. Grey eyes. How peculiar.

Of course she knew who he was. Everyone did. Great nemisis of Harry Potter. Son of the famous Lucius Malfoy. After the war, due to his mother's help of keeping Harry Potter alive, the Malfoy family was cleared of all charges, but remained on probation. Of course they would make him come back to his last year.

"You seem quiet. Do you care if I stay in here? The train is crowded and I am not exactly everyone's favorite at the moment." He said this as a statement, not a question. It did not matter how she answered. He was staying. He closed the door behind him, lugging his trunk into the opposite overhead before taking a seat across from her.

They sat like that, him gazing out of the window and her looking at her feet, for over an hour before he spoke.

"Why are you not afraid of me?" He stared at her, hard and guarded.

"How do you know that I'm not?" It was the first time she had spoken since leaving her house that morning. Her voice came out quiet, like she almost had forgotten how to make it work.

"Your wand. It is sitting over there." He jerked his head to her wand, which lay several feet away from her on the seat. "If I were to attack you, you would not stand a chance."

She shrugged. He wasn't going to attack her. He seemed to be more afraid of her than she was of him. He had a strong look to his face, but his eyes betrayed him. He was more afraid of death than she. She turned to the window, ignoring the steady gaze he had on her now. They were getting close to the school. No sense in ruining the last few minutes of peace by talking.

When the train pulled to a stop, he stood, avoiding her gaze now. He yanked his trunk from the compartment above, setting it on the ground with a loud bang. He turned to face her again.

"You should be scared of me."

With those few words, he stalked out of the compartment and into the hall, not bothering to glance back. She was unimportant to him. He wanted to be feared. She was not afraid. He was.

* * *

The Feast. It used to be such a wonderful time. Even without friends, she enjoyed herself here. It used to be jolly. Full of life. Happy. But death always seemed to ruin even the happiest moments.

It was different this year. There were no floating lights, or festive chatter. Dumbledore was not seated in the front, holding a goblet with a smile. No. This year, the students sat very somber, almost afraid to ruin the silence. She was wrong before. No one would return quite normal.

Professor Mcgonagall stood at the previous headmaster's place, a goblet between her fingers. She stood silent for a moment, watching the room. Not a word was spoken from the students. Every eye was on her.

"Welcome students, to another year at Hogwarts. Due to the events of last year, I was afraid that I would never be able to speak those words again. I know many of you have lost friends, family, loved ones. The war is over now. We no longer have to live in fear. Let's join together and repair our broken hearts, and mend our damaged souls. We have made it back. And we will prosper."

The students let out a roaring cheer, many standing up and raising their goblets as well. Hats flew in the air, as the students let free their determination to do as she said. They wanted to prosper.

She couldn't help but find it a little funny. Repair our hearts? Mend our souls? Death could never be repaired. Death was permanent. It was forever. There was no fixing death.

After the speech, the feast appeared and it almost seemed to return to normal. Students were catching up, laughing, and chattering like years past. She sat alone at the end, like she always did. She was content there.

She felt eyes burning into the back of her head. It was an odd feeling, considering no one had ever bothered to look at her before. Finding herself slightly curious, she turned, locking eyes with the mysterious gray orbs that she had encountered earlier.

Turning back, she tried to ignore the feeling. It was relentless. Never had dinner gone by so slowly. When one is eating alone, it seems to go by slower than usual anyways. But, not for her. She enjoyed the time to herself. It was not exactly silence, due to the surrounding houses full of boisterous laughter and joy, but it was nice. She caught on to many conversations, being alone. Ron Weasley had not returned. He had chosen to stay home, and help his brother run the joke shop. She caught this from Ginny, who was halfway down the long table, but had a shrill voice that was easily heard. The death of half of the Weasley duo had been too much. It was shame, really, that he had to die. He was a nice guy, no matter how many jokes he played on people. He had spoken to her once. Asked for a sheet of parchment during Charms. Lavender's mother had committed suicide over the summer. Colin's family had packed up and moved after his death. No one knew where.

Finally, as the feast came to an end, she felt the burning sensation leave her back. Feeling much more comfortable now, she stood up with the rest of her house to make their way back to the dormitory.

As she was ascending the staircase, a hand grabbed her arm, making her jump back in defense. No. She was not afraid. She would never be afraid.

"What is your name?" Malfoy kept his grip on her, locking eyes.

"Sutton. Sutton Gaunt."


	3. Invisible

Two weeks. That's how long she managed to maintain her shadow routine.

She had almost managed to completely forget about the strange encounter after the feast on the first night. Almost. It wasn't often that people would seek her out. Most of her own house didn't know her name. She didn't actually fit into her house. She wasn't just. She wasn't loyal. She had no one to be loyal to. Hufflepuff was her house, but it was not her.

She didn't mind her house. Most of them were so focused on being kind an friendly to one another that they tended to over look her on most occasions. Very few times had people waved hello at her, although she never returned the favor if they did. She didn't need friends here They would only die soon anyways. Everyone always did.

Clara was a Hufflepuff. And a strong one at that. People expected her to be in Ravenclaw. She knew everything. She didn't even deserve to be in the same house as Clara. But that didn't matter now.

For two weeks, she managed to go to class and go back to her dorm. When she was hungry, she would sneak into the kitchens and steal a meal so she wouldn't have to go to the Great Hall more than need be. She didn't like the set of gray eyes that always seemed to be in there.

On the third week of school, when the weather was just starting to get cooler, she had forgotten her bookbag in her dorm. Luckily, the professors paid her little to no mind, so she was able to go through the first half of the day without it. When everyone was going to lunch, she had decided to try and retrieve it for potions class.

She had just made it to the barrels when she heard someone cough behind her. When looking back, she met a pair of gray eyes. She said nothing.

"You've been avoiding me."

It wasn't an accusation. It was a statement.

She blinked at him, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

"I avoid everyone."

He smirked, the light in his eyes for the first time since before the war. He didn't want to be here anymore than she did. She could tell. Instead of wearing his robes and tie like a good student would, he dawned black slacks and a bright green button-down with his house animal sewed onto the bottom. His hair wasn't slicked back in the way she remembered either. It was as though he had just ran his hand through it and went on about his day.

"How are you scared of everyone but me?"

She couldn't help but allow a small smile onto her face. He didn't understand. No one did.

"I'm not afraid of anyone. I just avoid them. It's better that way."

Now it was his turn to study her. Unlike most girls, it didn't make her uncomfortable. She didn't think about what others saw of her. They wouldn't be around long. Everyone always left at one point or another. It didn't matter how she dressed or did her hair. They would forget her by the time they looked away. She liked that.

"Is it always better that way? To be invisible?"

Ah. Now he was starting to understand. She gave him another small smile. "Yes."

Without waiting for another reply, she turned and tapped the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row. She knew he was watching her intently. Without another word to the Slytherin, she entered the common room, with only her bookbag in mind.

* * *

This girl entered his mind at almost all points of the day. She never left, honestly. He had never seen her before. Seven years and he had never seen that girl one time. It was surprise, even to him. He remembered people. He watched people. It was his past time. He liked to sit, and imagine what their lives must be like. Did they have parents? Did their parents take them to the park as children? Were they better than his own?

Of course they were. Who wold want parents like his? A mother who did only what his father allowed. And a father who did only what the Dark Lord allowed. One Voldemort was defeated, his house became more broken than before. His father had lost his mind—literally. Most days, he just whimpered about a snake trying to eat him. He sang about house elves. He had gone crazy. His mother, the ever so faithful way, stayed by his side at almost all times, attending to his every need. Pathetic.

Once they had been pardoned after the war, his parents realized the condition his father was in and moved to a remote island his father had purchased when he was small. They used to play there before his father turned into the man of stone he was today. The mansion was left to Draco. It had too many bad memories. He spent most nights laying outside, in the back, gazing at the stars. He imagined every star was a person, killed by himself or his father in the war. Thousands of stars. Thousands of lives.

He almost hadn't came back to school. But it was Hogwarts or Azkaban.

The girl was not even that interesting looking. She wore robes too big for her. Probably a poor girl. Maybe even a Mudblood, judging by her being an outcast. She had blonde hair, but it was always in a tight bun on the back of her head. She never wore makeup, or not when he had seen her. The only thing peculiar about her was her eyes. They were a normal dark brown. Nothing new. But when you looked into them, you saw yourself. She knew things. She understood.

That terrified him.

After meeting her on the train, he had decided he would forget about her. She wasn't afraid of him. Everyone else was. They viewed him as a threat. He had left the Dark Lord. He didn't fight for either side when it came down to it. He ran. He wasn't a threat. He was a coward. He hated himself for it. He was no one. Just like her.

Sure, he still had friends. He was still a famous wizard, after all. He regained his spot almost immediately as head of the school. He was the man to be. But not the man he wanted to be.

He noticed her again in the Great Hall that same night. She was watching the hall with her studied look. It infuriated him. Who was she? Why was she not afraid of him? He had killed. Many people. He was part of the Dark Lord's army. She should be on her hands and knees, begging him for mercy. But, no one would anymore. It was all over.

After his impulsive move after the feast, he couldn't help but try to find out more about her. Sutton. He had never heard of her. He asked several people of his house. All anyone could figure out was that she was a Hufflepuff. That was enough for him.

So he waited. Any free moment he had, he stood in the door of the kitchens, watching the barrels for this girl. When she finally arrived, he was disappointed.

When she left him standing in the hall, by himself, he was confused. Why would anyone want to be invisible?

More importantly, how did one become invisible after being in the spot light for so long?


	4. Dungeons and Lakes

XzCrimsonTearszX : Thank you so much! I try to keep you all entertained as best I can. Thank you for the review!

Elphaba01 : Thank you so much! I have so many ideas for Sutton and Draco's 'relationship' to evolve. I'm glad you're as excited as I am! I'm sorry if my writing is a bit dark, but I felt like Draco, considering everything he went through, could relate to a dark character. I 'm trying to get into the essence of how Draco might feel. I feel like Draco would feel like his mother is pathetically loyal to her husband! That was a great observation from you. And racist, I agree completely. Some women are ridiculously loyal, even when they shouldn't be, haha. Thank you so much for your review and for reading!

* * *

Another week passed without any sign of the blonde Slytherin. Things were almost starting to feel normal again. Almost.

Everywhere she went, she could feel emptiness. The halls were not nearly as crowded as years before. Even the staff had sized down considerably. Without the Golden Trio, there was almost no incidents happening either. No jokes. No pranks. No fun. There was chatter. Mindless, irritating chatter.

Harry Potter had been accepted to be an Aura early, considering all of his work, and killing, he had put forth in the war. Hermione Granger had went in search of her parents. Once again, she gathered all of this while passing Ginny. Such a loud voice for such a small girl.

Everyone seemed different, yet everyone seemed the same. She was contemplating this as she made her way to the dungeons, for her last class of the day. She rather enjoyed potions in the past—Snape never bothered her. She had been in almost all of Harry Potter's classes, so she was rightfully ignored. She could focus on getting her potion right, but not too quickly. She would never have wanted to outshine Granger. But, there was no Granger or Potter to save her this year. But then again, there was no Snape to mindlessly ignore her. It was a pity. She did like him.

So far, there had been little attention in this class. She had been called on only once, and that was to retrieve a unicorn hair from the cabinet behind her. It wasn't too awful.

It was on her way to class when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"I think you've been following me." She turned and spoke first, looking into the gray eyes that stood behind her.

"I think you're batty." It was the best he had. He didn't know what to say to her. He wasn't sure why he even grabbed her.

"Then why follow me?" Again, there was no accusation in her voice. Just bewilderment and curiosity.

He angrily ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, removing his hand from her shoulder.

"I am not following you. I happen to live down here, remember?" He rudely shoved her shoulder with his as he passed her. She continued to walk beside him, watching her feet, her books clutched tightly to her chest. She had forgotten her bag again, but remembered the book. She would have to work on that.

"Then why did you stop me?" She spoke after a few moments, stopping when he did. He met her eyes once again, his mouth open, unable to respond. Why had he grabbed her? He didn't know. He wanted to scare her. No , that wasn't it. He had no interest in bringing fear to this low-life girl. She meant nothing to him, and neither did her opinion. Then why had he stopped her? Why did he want to talk to her?

"I don't know." He poke harshly, but honestly. She tilted her head, studying him. She didn't like the attention she had been starting to receive from him. He would get tired eventually and move on, but he was taking longer than most people. She had rarely had more than one conversation with any one person since she had started school.

Shrugging, she started to walk ahead again. This time, he followed her without any personal contact. That was progress. He was getting bored already. Once at the door, she stepped inside as he walked on to his dorm, without a glance back.

* * *

"Get up. We're going outside."

That voice again. She had began to hear it everywhere. On the train, on the staircase, on the way to the dungeons, in her dreams, and now even at dinner. Usually, she wouldn't be in here. She liked to grab food straight from the kitchen and hide in the safety of her bedroom. She didn't know why she had decided to come to the Great Hall tonight. But now she was regretting it.

Instead of arguing back, and because her interest was sparked, she stood and followed him out of the Great Hall, ignoring many of the looks other students were casting their way. A Slytherin would never associate with a Hufflepuff.

She followed him down the hall and out of the castle, until they had reached the lake just outside of the castle. She had been here once or twice. Couples snogging usually inhabited the space, so her visits were minimum, but they were nice. It was very pretty. If you watched the water closely, you could see fish and other creatures swimming underneath the water. But wait. She was getting distracted.

Draco had already spread his cloak on the ground, taking a seat cross legged on top of it. He looked at her, waiting for her to do the same. Instead, she leaned against the tree beside him. He didn't know why he had approached her in the Great Hall. Their conversation in the hall had struck a nerve for him. She was so unattached. Usually, he was used to it. His mother had loved him, he knew, but attachment was not their strong point. When it came down to it, she was on Lucius's side. No matter what. But Sutton's level of unattachment was new, even to him. She seemed to not care about anyone. Except maybe one person. That's why she was here. He was going to finally break her.

"Aren't you going to ask why I brought you out here?"

"I figured you'd tell me eventually."

He sighed, obviously very frustrated with her lack of interest. Why was this girl so aloof? He was supposed to be the one with no heart. He had killed people without a second glance. He still had the Dark Mark on his forearm. Who was this girl against that? Nothing. Nothing at all. It was time she started acting like it.

"You aren't as invisible as you think you are. I saw you. I continue to see you. I know your name. I know your House. If I really wanted, I could find out everything about you. So, why continue to try and hide it?" He was mocking her, trying to get a reaction. Instead, she shrugged, continuing to learn against the tree.

"Let me be more clear. I don't like you. I don't like the way you act. You act like you're invisible. No one is invisible! No matter what you do, someone will always find you out! Don't you understand?! There can't be an easy way out. Ever. Someone will always be watching you and judging you. You don't get to choose whether you're invisible. Because you aren't!" At some point during his speech, he had stood and closed in on her, his hands on either side of her head against the tree. He had lost control. He hadn't meant to lose control.

She had to be afraid of him now. He had the power over here. He could see her wand in her back pocket, completely out of her reach, as her hands were down by her side. He would catch her if she lunged for it. He had control. Complete control.

"You don't know me. I am invisible. You could be too, but you don't want to be."

Her lack of fear did nothing but infuriate him more. How dare she speak to him like that? She didn't know him. He could kill her with flick of his wand at any second, and here she was telling him what he wanted? He slammed his hands back into the tree beside her, making her jump.

That was better. Be afraid.

"I never said I wanted to be invisible. You aren't either. I know you. Sutton Gaunt."

She shrugged.

"I know you're in Hufflepuff."

Again, she shrugged, unimpressed.

"I also know about Clara-"

He recoiled, after her hand met his face in a much more powerful blow than he thought she could have managed. She looked terrified, holding her hand, as if she couldn't believe she had just done it. She had just slapped Draco Malfoy.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare speak about Clara!" She sprinted back to the castle, fighting back her tears. She couldn't cry. She hadn't cried for years. Then again, no one had spoken about Clara for many years either.

He stood by the tree, watching her retreating figure. He had struck a nerve. Yes, he had done his research. Well, his house elves had done their research, at his request.

Clara Gaunt. Older sister of Sutton.

He wanted the information to have an upper hand. He had wanted to break her. But, why did he feel uncomfortable now? He didn't understand the nerve he had struck. Why had she broken so easily? Grabbing his cloak off the ground, he made his way back to the main entrance. He had a long night ahead of him.


	5. Library

Sutton had done her best to avoid him at all costs. If she saw him in the halls, she dodged into the nearest empty classroom. This was new to her. She was never one to avoid a person. They always avoided her. She didn't know why she had even followed him that night. Or why she had decided to challenge him. If he wouldn't have brought up Clara...

Skipping meals had become a habit for her. If she wasn't able to sneak into the kitchens and convince the house elves to give her something, she wouldn't eat at all. She wasn't risking seeing him again. Since he had made such a show in the Great Hall of them walking out, more and more people had began to notice her. They watched her as she passed. They whispered. One or two girls had even attempted to speak to her. It was all very new, and she didn't like it.

Who did he think he was? Yes, Draco Malfoy. Big and bad hotshot bad boy of Hogwarts. What did he want with her? What did he have to prove? He was only making her life miserable.

Finding out that the library was a relatively safe place to be, considering Malfoy was never spotted here, she began to make it her safe haven. She had found an empty table in the back almost every night. She rarely brought homework with her—she liked to just sit. Unnoticed.

It was here that a random boy approached her, dragging her out of her peaceful thoughts.

"You're the girl that Draco was harassing aren't you?" She looked up at him. Dark hair, dark eyes. He had on glasses, making him seem to be the studious type, but his clothing said otherwise. He dressed similar to how Draco did—untucked shirt, trousers. The only difference being that he didn't have on a Slytherin tie. He was a Gryffindor.

Taking the seat across from her, he continued. "I can only assume he was harassing you. I couldn't imagine you actually being friends with that git. I'm Bryce Nott. Cousin of Theo."

He smiled at her holding out his hand. Hesitantly, she shook it before returning back to looking at her shoes. He fidgeted, not sure of what to say next.

"You're Sutton right? A lot of people are talking about you now after the Great Hall incident."

"Yes. Sutton Gaunt."

"I don't think I've ever seen you around. I'm a sixth year. Gryffindor, if you couldn't tell." He gestured towards his red tie. "You're a seventh year, right?"

She nodded. Why was he still speaking to her?

"I'm really surprised you came back. You know, with the war and all. Were you close to any of the ones that died?"

No. Not in that war anyways. Instead of speaking, she turned her head. What did he want?

"I'm sorry. That was insensitive. Can we start over? I'm a lot like you, I think."

She couldn't help but snort. He was nothing like her. Obviously offended, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You don't like to be noticed. You'd prefer to be in the background. All of this attention that Malfoy has caused bothers you. You're quiet and to yourself. Am I pretty close?"

"Decently. Let me ask you something. Why are you talking to me?"

"I told you. I'm a lot like you."

* * *

He couldn't find her anywhere. And he had literally looked everywhere. Ok, maybe not everywhere. But he highly doubted she was at the bottom of the lake or in the dungeons. Unless she had been hiding in her room, he couldn't find her.

He didn't know why he was searching for her. He didn't need her. He didn't need anyone. He barely knew her. She didn't know him. She probably hated him after bringing up her sister. But, that's what he wanted. Right? He wanted her to hate him. But, then again, he wanted her to see the real him so badly. The him that he himself didn't even know. He didn't know what he wanted anymore.

Clara Gaunt. She was the reason he couldn't find her. If he had only kept his mouth shut. But why did it matter? He didn't care what she thought. She was just an average, shy girl. She didn't deserve his attention. No one did. Clara was the older sister. Quite a few years older. Sutton couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 when she passed away. No matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find the cause of death for her. Just the dates.

It was odd. And to make it worse, it seemed as if Sutton had dropped off the face of the planet.

Not that he cared. Oh no. Not at all. She didn't matter. He was just curious.

He was starting to get behind on his school work. He wasn't busy. He was just uninterested. He didn't care about potions, or charms. He just wanted out of here. Luckily, McGonagall had developed a soft spot for him apparently, after the war. She had arranged for a tutor to meet him in the library once a week to help him. He didn't need a tutor.

He made his way to the library, books in hand. Hopefully this wouldn't last for more than an hour. He was tired. He hadn't been getting much sleep. He was irritated. That damn girl had disappeared. He was angry. Why did he care about that damn girl in the first place? He didn't want to be here.

He shouldn't have been here. He should have died in the war, like he deserved. The tattoo on his forearm was a daily reminder that he was nothing but a traitor and a coward. He didn't deserve to be here at all.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he entered the library. Glancing around, he spotted blonde hair. Finally. Who the hell was she talking to? She said she liked to be invisible. Obviously, she had lied. Just like everyone else always did.

Angrily, he marched back to her table, slamming his book down next to her hands. She didn't jump. Just looked up at him, with the large brown eyes. The eyes he hated.

"We need to talk." He completely disregarded the random fellow across from Sutton. He didn't matter.

"Why?"

"About the other day. We have unfinished business."

She tilted her head in the way that infuriated him more than anything else. She was studying him. The boy across from her cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I guess I'll just go. I'll see you later Sutton." He flashed her a smile, which she returned, and slid past Draco and out the door. Why the hell had she smiled at him? Invisible his ass. Angrily, he seated himself into the seat that the Gryffindor git had just deserted.

"Who the hell was that?"

"I'm sorry, is that any of your concern?"

"I don't give a fuck if it's my concern or not. Who was that?"

"A stranger. Why does it matter?"

Getting more and more frustrated with the conversation, or lack thereof, he hit his head on the table in front of him. In retrospect, he knew it would be a bad idea to cause a throbbing headache when he had so much to do, but at that moment, he didn't really care.

Sensing his anger and frustration, she studied him. What did he want with her? Why did he track her down all the way in here? Noticing his book, she assumed it was just a coincidence that he needed to study at the same time she was in here talking to Bryce. Bryce. What a character. But, that was for another time. She could only handle so much irrational testosterone at one time.

"That can't be good for your head."

She got a grunt in reply.

"What exactly do you want from me? You tried to scare me. You humiliated me in front of everyone. You had to bring up Cla-. It doesn't matter. Can this end? It's really hard to get by unnoticed when the most important wizard in the school is stalking you."

This raised his head. He stared at her for a moment before his face erupted in a large grin, followed by laughter. His chokes got louder and his face got redder, making him double-over in his chair. She didn't understand men. Or people for that matter. She picked up her bag to leave, but was stopped by his hand on her arm. This time, instead of being an urgent yank, it was gentle. Almost friendly. It scared her.

"Most important wizard of the school? You really know nothing about me, do you?"

She yanked her arm back, unsure what to think of the feelings and thoughts that were going through her head.

"No. And I have no desire to."

With that, she turned on her heel, leaving him sitting in the library, completely bewildered and still wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.


	6. The Lake

I'm so sorry dear readers for the slightly long update. I'm trying to have a new chapter every week. Unfortunately, it is getting closer to finals time. This week is pretty free, so I'll do my best to get you another chapter before Friday! Thank you to everyone who reviewed so far! If you have any thoughts or opinions, don't hesitate to share! Enjoy this lovely chapter! 

* * *

"Come say bye to Clara!" Her mother yelled down the hall, trying to coax a small version of Sutton out of her room. With her bottom lip pouted out as far as it  
would go, she dragged her feet down the hall to bid farewell to her sister.

She wanted to go to the train station with them. She wanted to say goodbye there. She had never seen the station before. She wanted to meet Clara's friends. She wanted to chase the train as it was leaving and get to experience what it was like to leave for Hogwarts. She still had a few years before she could actually go, so she was impatient. She just wanted a taste of what it was like. And Clara was her best friend. The summer wasn't enough for them. Although they spent every minute together, it wasn't enough. Her mother, on the other hand, would not allow it. They had fought quite viciously until she had finally stomped into her room and slammed the door.

But, as angry as she was, she wasn't going to miss saying good bye to her sister.

"Oh, Sutton! I'm going to miss you so much!" Clara wrapped her arms around her child sister, squeezing her tightly. Clara was a very pretty witch for her age. She had long, blonde hair that reached halfway down her back, perfectly straight. She had very pale skin, along with bright, sparkling blue eyes. The siblings looked almost polar opposite, with Sutton's tan complexion and dark curls, but were joined at the hip.

Even with the age difference, Clara had respect for her younger half. Sutton was skilled, even early on in age. Without a wand, she could control things with her mind with little to no effort. She was able to do things that Clara didn't learn until her second year at Hogwarts with a wand. Her sister was bright to be so young; they meshed well together. The months she was at school were hard. She wrote to Sutton every day. They were more than sisters. Yes, much more. They were best friends.

When Sutton began to tear, just like she always did when her older sibling began her journey, Clara held her in front of her, locking eyes.

"Now don't cry. I'll be done with school at the end of the year. You've only got four years until you'll be boarding the train. And don't you worry, I'll be right there. I'll only be gone a few months. I'll be home for Christmas, and I'll write every day until then. Now, chin up. I'll see you soon!"

She had lied. That was the last time she would ever see her sister. 

* * *

Shaking the dream from her head, Sutton sat up from her current napping spot. She had fallen asleep at the lake. She came out her after her run in with Malfoy and Bryce to get some fresh air.

Those two. Lord, what was the deal with this year? She thought for sure that after all of the death and action of last year, she would be the last person on anyone's mind. Apparently not.

Glancing at the school, she guessed it was around midnight. She would have to be careful going back inside. Or, she could stay here all night. She had never spent the night by the lake.

Deciding on spending the night under the stairs, she stretched her cramping legs out. She had been asleep for a few hours. It would take a while to go back to sleep. She didn't even remember falling asleep. Oh well.

She often dreamed of Clara. She remembered everything—how she smelled, the way she would hug her tightly, even the look she gave her when Sutton would fight with their parents.

Her mom. They often fought about trivial things, such as seeing Clara off at the train station. Not even a week after Clara passed, so had both of her parents. Oddly, she didn't remember much about her parents. She remembered often fighting with her mother, but she remembered some good times as well. Her mother loved her very much. She knew that.

Her dad. He was much different than her mother. While her mother was like Clara, warm and inviting, her father was a man of stone. He loved Clara, that was obvious. He often forgot he had another daughter.

It didn't matter now. They were all dead. Nothing really mattered anymore.

She wasn't quite sure why she had returned to school. Or why she had went in the first place. She had often thought about joining Clara, but ultimately decided against it. Clara would never forgive her.

The fact that Malfoy had even brought Clara up infuriated her all over again. Who did he think he was? Clara was none of his business. She wasn't anyone's business. She was dead.

It didn't matter. It seemed like he would never stop pestering her. And Bryce? What did he want?

Before Malfoy had shown up, Bryce had told her a great deal. Although he loved attention, he said he often felt secluded and alone. In the shadows. He said he felt like no one knew the real him.

She had asked why he was telling her of all people. He said he could trust her. He didn't even know her.

She barely knew herself. Why was he trusting her?

Even though she didn't understand it, she enjoyed Bryce's company. He didn't pry into her life, he didn't make a scene, he didn't try to intimidate her. He was everything that Malfoy wasn't.

She would need to go to bed soon. Not having the energy to conjure up a blanket or pillow, she rested her back against the tree and stretched her legs out in front of her. Within minutes, she was fast asleep. 

* * *

Why was she out here?

He always came out to the lake at midnight. Like clockwork. He hated being in the dungeons. He couldn't sleep there. It was dark and gloomy. It was unforgiving—much like his life had been this far. Although his housemates worshipped him, the rest of the school did not feel the same way. They still saw him as the boy who killed Dumbledore. He didn't bother correcting them that Snape had actually killed the old headmaster—they wouldn't believe him anyways. Twice, he had found poison in his food. He took to checking with a charm he had read about in the library once. Gryffindors, no doubt.

The lake was peaceful. No one was here t judge him, or try to kill him. He didn't have to feel trapped here. But, why the hell was the sleeping here?

He had seen her here before, but never this late. No. She was always back in by curfew. He thought to their earlier encounter. She had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him.

He didn't know why he was drawn to her. He felt like she could understand him—no. No one would ever understand him.

Not wanting to wake her up and endure her wrath, he conjured a blanket and carefully draped it across her lap. She would freeze otherwise. The weather was still nice, but the nights could get bitter. Plus, the merpeople in the lake found it quite entertaining to splash water on their visitors. He didn't care about her or her health though. No. He didn't care if she got pemonia and died out here. What did he care?

So, he went ahead and put a heating charm on the blanket as well.

Settling down on the opposite side of the tree, he leaned back. He never imagined he would be here.

The Dark Mark still resided on his forearm. It would never go away. Often, he wore his shirt rolled up for underclassman to see and run away from. Still. When he accepted this fate, he never thought he would enter Hogwarts as a normal student ever again.

A world without Voldemort. What a world. No more death. No more hatred. Secretly, this is the world that he had always wanted. But he would never admit that, not even to himself.

This girl. He didn't understand her. She was so different than the rest. She was uniquely pretty, with large eyes that seemed to stare right through your soul. She was quiet. She studied people. She was so different than the rest. He didn't understand. Maybe he wanted to be more like her.

No. He wanted to scare her. She had been the only person in this school who hadn't jumped back in fear when they saw him. She needed to be scared. He was a coward to himself, but no one would ever know that. He needed to prove to everyone, and himself, that he was someone to fear.

She was ruining it for her. He didn't know why she wasn't scared. Why was she not afraid that he would kill her with one flick of the wand? Why was she not afraid of death?

And Clara. She was a sore subject, apparently. No matter how hard he had searched, he still got almost nothing. He did, however, find out more about her parents.

Joseph and Loraine Gaunt. They died in a muggle car crash a week after Clara's death. A drunk driver. He didn't know where Sutton had been at the time. He didn't know who raised her after that. He knew so much, but did not know anything at all.

He wanted to get close to her; he wanted to push her away.

Sleep. That's what he wanted. Switching positions to be laying flat on his back, he let his mind wander about Clara, Sutton, Voldemort, and other things until he only had one last thought before he drifted into unconsciousness.

Who the hell was the guy sitting with her in the library today?!


End file.
